


Yozora Dreams

by Xairathan



Category: Yozakura Quartet
Genre: C133 Spoilers, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 06:56:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15791316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xairathan/pseuds/Xairathan
Summary: Spoilers for Chapter 133





	Yozora Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wesakechak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wesakechak/gifts).



> Spoilers for Chapter 133

Kotoha knows that this is a dream from the stillness of the town and from the bright full moon that shines down onto untouched rooftops. This time, she’s started somewhere familiar to her: there on the street corner is the convenience store that she and Ao would go to for their midnight snacks, light streaming through its empty shop front like a beacon. Kotoha passes it, following the golden trail of streetlights to where she knows she’ll need to be, where the maker of this dream is waiting. 

As expected, she finds Ao in her apartment, sitting cross-legged on the floor. She doesn’t look up from the bare table when Kotoha cautiously nudges the door in, poking her head through the crack. “Ao?” she says, edging past the door and shutting it carefully behind her. “You called me, right?” 

By which she means to ask if this is only a dream after all, as she hopes it might be. 

“Right,” Ao replies. The hollow echo of her voice, though not unfamiliar to someone who’s used to sharing dreams with a Satori, still sends a shiver down Kotoha’s neck. 

“What’s happening?” Kotoha walks a half circle around the table, settles herself in front of Ao, who doesn’t meet her eyes. “You called me to dispel that little shack I made- did you get Enjin-” 

“I can’t explain.” Another sharp breath, and Ao’s fists clench against her dress. “I’m- I don’t have time.” 

Now it registers in Kotoha’s mind what she’d felt even in the depths of her dreamless slumber, that feeling of calm that had settled over her. In the confines of the ambulance, of course she wouldn’t have seen what would have been the third pillar of silver light to pierce the sky that night. 

“You promised.” Kotoha yanks her knees up to her chest and presses her forehead against them, a vain attempt to shield herself from Ao’s scrutiny. “Didn’t I tell you that if you weren’t here, none of this would be worth it?” 

“I’ll come back.” Ao moves at last, reaching over the table. Her hand settles on Kotoha’s arm, reassuringly warm. “Gin came back, after all.” 

“You promised me…” 

“It’ll be okay. I’m not going by myself.” 

That gets Kotoha’s attention, enough for her to tilt her head and raise one eye into view. “Enjin?” she mumbles. “No, Gin?” 

“The others can fill you in when you wake up.” Ao crawls across the open space where the table had been until she’s drawn even with Kotoha, wraps an arm around her shoulders. “I just wanted to…” 

Ao trails off, leaning over until her head bumps against something solid. Kotoha reaches up, running her hand through Ao’s hair as Ao turns her face to bury it in Kotoha’s neck with what might be a muted sob. 

“How long?” Kotoha whispers. 

“I don’t know.” A series of images dart through the tangle of Kotoha’s own mind: Enjin, crouched atop a glowing gold Nanagou; Akina and Hime off in the distance, their mouths moving frantically; that golden light that surges from beneath Ao’s feet, visible through her paling hands. Then in time with that light, what Kotoha imagines to be the pulse of the Nanagou and Enjin’s power running through it, comes a rapid string of thoughts. Should I tell her, will we come back, is he waiting for us there? 

“Ao.” Kotoha grips her knees tighter to still their nervous trembling. She’s no Satori; she doesn’t know what to say to someone who’s passed their thoughts before her, unwittingly or not. No, she’s a Kotodama, and what she’s best at is speaking the things she wants into reality. Why would this be any different? “Ao,” she says again, and hears the shaking of her body that’s made its way into her voice. She pushes on, anyway, against her better instinct, and against time itself. “You know I love you, right?” 

“Yes. I’ve loved you, too.” 

And just like that, the words they’ve been dancing around for months, never quite ready to say, are out in the open. Kotoha’s arms wind around Ao’s waist, and a moment later, Ao feels the press of chapped lips against her forehead. “Tell me when you’re going?” Kotoha murmurs to her. 

“Okay.” 

With a shifting of her arms, Kotoha hoists Ao up into the air, walking slowly towards the bed. The outline of one of the Nanagou fills the view from the window- it could be that one that Ao’s on right now, Kotoha thinks, if only she could be there- 

“Don’t wake up, Kotoha.” 

At last, their eyes meet. The gentle press of Ao’s mind to Kotoha’s tells her everything- that she’d never make it in time; that if she did somehow, Ao would pass right through her embrace. She hates that she nods, that she’d exhausted her voice earlier, and for the first time, finds that there is a smile of Ao’s that she could hate. 

“It’ll be okay, Kotoha.” Ao’s fingers tickle the curve of her cheek, pushing stray hair to the side. They trace the sinking feeling that works its way down Kotoha's throat, forming a fist in her shirt. With a tug, Kotoha goes down atop Ao, the pair of them landing on Ao's bed, which for once isn't made. It registers now, a thought that twists Kotoha's stomach into bitter knots, that the only reason the bed wouldn't need to be made is if neither Nanami was coming back to stay in it. 

"Kotoha," Ao says again. Her ears twitch; Kotoha isn't sure if the smile she sees on Ao's face is real or simply projected into her own mind, but Ao's face is rising towards hers, her breath hot on Kotoha's lips. 

Kotoha’s dreamed of this before, but never when Ao was in contact with her. She wonders, briefly, if it’s a happy coincidence, up until the moment that Ao’s lips meet hers and take all questions from her. She lets Ao pull her down, lets her hair fall along the sides of her face to shield the window from their sight, content to let this imagined world vanish, as long as this room remains. As long as there is Ao, she thinks, then she can let herself forget the rest, if only for a while. 

Her hands find the space between their bodies and slide Ao’s dress up, over Ao’s upraised arms, and off. She wonders, if Yuuhi were here, if he would have predicted this; if Juri, who must be nearby and oblivious to Kotoha’s dream, will notice if anything is different. Kotoha shakes her head, dismissing those thoughts. Yuuhi has left town, and Juri isn’t in the dream. All there is to worry about is the softness of Ao’s neck as she sucks bright red marks into it, Ao’s purr-like gasps music to her ears. Then Kotoha abandons her slow approach towards Ao’s cheek, fastening her lips instead over the tip of one of Ao’s Satori ears. She feels Ao’s body kick beneath her, the twitch of Ao’s ear against her tongue, and can’t stop herself from smiling. 

“Kotoha,” Ao whispers. Her hands leave the sheets, pressing themselves flat against Kotoha’s stomach. With a final, light scrape of her teeth, Kotoha pushes herself up and away from Ao’s touch, moving back on her knees towards the foot of the bed. Another curious thought- did Ao purposely pick the blue and white panties she’d matched with Kotoha for this dream?- and it’s gone; Kotoha slides that off Ao’s legs, too, and descends upon her without hesitating. Her mouth traverses Ao’s pale thighs, worrying little bite marks into her skin. Ao reaches back, blindly grabbing at the sheets, her jaw tensing when Kotoha finally reaches her folds, drawing her tongue in a long sweep across them. 

And from between Kotoha’s legs comes a new feeling, kindling a heat in her cheeks and making her pause, glancing up at Ao. Though Ao’s hidden her face behind her hand, Kotoha notes the twitching of her ears, jumping as if their movement alone is what’s stirring up this feeling and her desire. Brown eyes narrow slightly, taking on a green tint, and the spark that jumps from Kotoha’s tongue to Ao’s clit sends a cascade of shudders down both their spines. Ao’s leg kicks feebly towards the side of the bed; a hand on her waist secures her, and Kotoha continues, eyes flickering continuously with the green of her power. 

“Kotoha, that’s cheating…” Ao whines, wriggling under Kotoha’s grasp. “Koto-” 

Kotoha’s name is lost to a noiseless cry: Kotoha’s tongue probes into her, retreats, drags back over her clit, and all Ao can do is brace her shoulders back against the bed. The mirrored sensation reaches Kotoha a moment later. Her fingers press hard into the skin of Ao’s waist; she jerks her own hips down, seeking an impossible friction. Dragging the flat of her tongue along Ao’s slit satisfies her only momentarily. Her next pass pushes harder against Ao, lapping at her like a cat- the irony isn’t lost on her- and she hears Ao’s breath hitch, feels the fingers of Ao’s hand curl against the crown of her head. 

How she wishes this dream could endure. She wishes she could listen to the sounds drawn from the unknown depths of Ao’s body, longs for a morning marked by the glow of the twilight sun and the scent of freshly steamed rice. Or perhaps that’s Ao’s wish, but the distinction doesn’t matter now. They are, for this moment and in this dream, inseparable; Kotoha draws her lips around Ao’s clit and touches her tongue to it, and feels the arc of her own electricity bring Ao up against her, feels the heat of it blazing down her own back. Somewhere in this town, Ao is calling for her. Perhaps Kotoha might be doing the same in her sleep, but here, she is drawing them both to their peaks. And there it is, that soaring feeling in her stomach that must be replicated in Ao’s; there’s Ao, drawing her legs in tightly and shouting Kotoha’s name so loudly that it must be thunder, and the implacable heat that’s built within her, coiling like a spring in her gut, diffuses all at once. With a final cry that might be hers, or Ao’s, Kotoha shuts her eyes and lets her climax wash over her, chasing the last traces of her power from her tongue. 

Kotoha collapses to the bed, only barely supporting herself with one arm, moving herself off Ao’s legs. Ao moves to the side, patting the sheets beside her. Kotoha crawls up, lands next to her with a thud, and pulls a pillow closer to herself, draping one arm loosely over Ao’s stomach. Like this, it might be just another night, another unplanned sleepover. Ao snuggles back against her, ears moving forward to press flat against her head, a timid smile painting her face. “It’s reversed this time,” she whispers to Kotoha. 

“Huh?” 

“You’re the one who sleeps naked in the summer.” 

“Oh.” Kotoha laughs, a chuckle that turns into a sigh, and rests her chin on Ao’s shoulder. 

“Don’t worry too much when I’m gone, alright?” Ao’s voice is there, and her body is still solid against Kotoha’s, but her warmth has gone. Kotoha’s eyes flicker to her face, and she finds herself gazing through Ao’s head to the sheets beneath her. 

“Ao-” 

“I’ll find a way back, I promise.” Ao turns in Kotoha’s arms, bringing their faces flush with each other. Her forehead taps against Kotoha’s, the tips of her ears tickling Kotoha’s skin. “I’ve got Gin with me, so I’ll be fine. That’s my promise as a Satori.” 

“Then here’s mine, as a Kotodama.” Ao is still solid enough to touch, to kiss. Kotoha tilts her chin forward, and there again is Ao’s warmth, found if only for a second. “I’ll bring you back,” she says, the words leaving her in hurried succession, as if they might only carry their promise so long as Kotoha could remember what it is she’s trying to call back to herself. 

“I’ll see you in October, Kotoha.” 

Ao’s hand reaches out. Kotoha is sure they touched, but not sure of where, or for how long- 

She blinks, the blackness of the insides of her eyelids stifling- 

Something in her chest gives, not her heart or her lungs, but something akin to a scream torn forcibly from her soul itself- 

Kotoha awakens to a quiet that feels almost physical, pressing against the sides of her head like a pair of hands. She ignores Juri’s shout of surprise, leaping from the gurney and fumbling with the back doors. One gives way at last, spilling Kotoha out into a town just like the one from her dream, abandoned and dark save for a single glowing pillar of gold, its branches stretching like a hand towards the sky. Before the light can begin to dim and before Juri can stop her, Kotoha bends her knees and leaps to the top of the ambulance, facing the radiant ghost of the Nanagou. She shouts with sparks on her breath to the sky, rending itself open to swallow the Nanagou and those on it whole, sending with them a promise, and a hope that whatever words are uttered in this dimension will echo in the other. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title translates to 'Night Sky Dreams'. I wanted a title that referenced Yozakura Quartet.


End file.
